They passed through the opening and stopped once they were in the tunnel. Turning around, they lined up once again along the partially opened door and lowered their shoulders against its solid frame.
“All right now, men,” commanded Prince Henry. “Push!”
This time, it took little effort to slide the door across until the library entrance was sealed once again. The stream began to pool around their feet, the icy water steadily rising up the sides of their legs.
“We’d better move quickly,” suggested Antonio.
Prince Henry nodded, took the lead. They sloshed their way up the corridor towards the entrance and freedom. Angus took up the rear, shaking his head. “Why do I feel we just traded one inescapable underground prison for another?”
The exhausted, shivering trio marched for several minutes to the flickering light of the single oil lamp before coming to the bend in the corridor. Prince Henry stopped them. He looked down at his hourglass and shook his head.
“We have only a few minutes left to secure ourselves. Pass out the tools and start hammering.”
Each man grabbed the improvised hammers and thick iron spikes they had scrounged from the discards back in the cavern. Finding their own large crack in the wall but still close enough to be within reach of each other, they began to drive their spikes into the space between the stones of the wall.
“Why don’t we do this closer to the entrance? Won’t we have a better chance of escaping?” asked Angus.
“If we tried to secure ourselves in any other place along the corridor,” explained Prince Henry, “we would be simply ripped off the wall by the force of the water that will be pouring in from the sea. Here, on the inside corner of the turn, the pressure should not be as great. The turbulence as the water tries to turn the corner will hopefully save our lives.”
“Oh,” said Angus, trying his best to understand. He raised his hammer and drove his spike into the wall an extra inch, just in case.
Connor looked on in amazement at the speed and efficiency of the Templar crew. They had dragged the raft closer to shore and repositioned it above the entranceway. Now they raised a large triangular pyramid of wooden beams, pulleys and ropes between the base of the raft and the edge of the shoreline. Connor looked down to the hourglass, then over to Na’gu’set, standing on the edge of the raft. The sand in the two ends of the vessel reached an equal level.
“It’s time,” Connor shouted. “May God be with us and our friends below!”
Na’gu’set gave a nod, put the sharpened dagger between his clenched teeth and dove into the water off the edge of the raft. One minute passed. Then two. Nervously, Connor knelt on the edge of the raft and looked down into the lapping ocean. The water was too murky to see much of anything. If Na’gu’set couldn’t free the boulders from the gate, then all would be lost. He was beginning to worry that perhaps Na’gu’set had entangled himself in the netting. Connor removed his shirt, preparing to dive in himself. He wasn’t a strong swimmer, but he couldn’t sit on shore and do nothing as another friend died by drowning. Then, just off to the side of the entranceway, several bubbles appeared. A head splashed into view. Na’gu’set wiped his long black hair out of his dark eyes and removed the dagger from his mouth.
“Two more!” he shouted, then disappeared under the surface again.
A minute later, he resurfaced and nodded.
“The gate is free!”
Connor whooped and turned to the men on the beach. They all held ropes that led up to the pulleys then down to the eye rings that had been secured to the top of the gate.
“Brothers, are we ready?”
“We’re ready!” they replied.
“Then put your backs into it! Pull for Prince Henry!”
The lines tightened, the pulleys groaned and the massive gate began to lift out of the sea.
Angus looked up into the unending gloom of the corridor.
“I hear something.”
A terrifying roar suddenly filled their ears as a huge surge of sea water bore down on them like a stampede of wild horses.
“Hold on tight!” commanded Prince Henry. “This is going to be a rougher ride than the last one!”
Angus wrapped his arm once more around the leather strap which was tied to the spike in the wall. His other arm held onto the sack of air. Suddenly, the corridor exploded in a spray of white froth, smashing up against the walls and ceiling, roaring past them as the tempest angrily plunged into the lower depths of the corridor. The deluge lashed their bodies and legs, knocking Angus right off his feet. His strapped arm was the only thing that saved him from being swept down the corridor to his death. He looked over his shoulder. To his horror, the frothing water was bubbling up from below at tremendous speed, as if some monster were regurgitating its liquid meal.
“Remember,” shouted Prince Henry, “we will have to swim in complete darkness! Use the air bladder to help you find your direction. It will want to get to the surface as badly as you!”
As the rising water swept over their bodies, the light from Antonio’s oil lamp failed, plunging them into terrifying darkness. As planned, the three men let go of their leather straps. Angus was sure he was about to die. His body was thrown against the ceiling, his shoulder erupting in pain. Bouncing like a cork, he momentarily bobbed up into a pocket of air. Without time to catch his breath, he was sucked under once again. He gagged, trying desperately to clear his throat of salt water. Somehow, over the building panic, he remembered the air sack. He forced the reed once again into his mouth and breathed in some of the tainted, but welcome, air.
Calming slightly now that he knew he could breathe, he hung on to the bag for dear life while his body was thrown, banged and twisted in the swirling, frothing maelstrom of water. After what seemed like an eternity, Angus was so battered and bruised that his mind barely registered a calming in the water. A burning sensation in his lungs brought him back to his senses. Desperate for another gulp of air, he once again put his mouth around the hollow reed. He opened his eyes and looked around. Darkness. Where was the entranceway? The air sac gently bounced up against what he thought was the ceiling. He felt the stone ceiling rubbing gently against his knuckles, then Prince Henry’s words came back to him: use the motion of the air to help find your direction. He tilted his head backwards and stared in the direction of his movement.
Light! It was faint, blurry and green, but there was definitely a patch of light up ahead! Kicking his feet vigorously, he helped the air transport him towards the heavenly sight. After several breaths from the air bag, green light suddenly exploded all around him. He was free from the tunnel!
But the air bag was suddenly wrenched from his hands. It had caught on something sharp near the frame of the entranceway. When Angus tried to pull it away, he felt it tear in his hands. In one enormous bubble, the precious, beautiful, life-saving air left the bag and rose for the surface.
Angus was not a swimmer. He knew the buoyant bag was his only way of making it to the life-giving air at the surface. And he had come so close! Panicking, Angus didn’t think it was possible for life to play such a cruel joke. He was not about to give up without a fight. He thrashed his arms and legs, doing everything he could to try and propel himself that final distance to the surface. His lungs burned. His effort demanded more oxygen. But the ripples above his head seemed no closer. It wasn’t fair. He was going to die while in sight of salvation. In one final act of defiance, he screamed a curse at his situation. Instantly, sea water filled his lungs, burning and cold. Falling limp, he felt his body begin its slow descent towards his ocean grave.
Somehow, through his greying mind, he felt a tug on his tunic. It didn’t matter what he had hit. It was over. But the tugs persisted, and suddenly his face broke through the surface. Two strong arms wrapped themselves around his waist and squeezed. He felt the sea water in his lungs jet out through his mouth and nostrils. After coughing up what felt like half the ocean, the sweetest, most glorious breath of air filled
the empty void within his chest. Angus looked up into the painfully bright light of an overhead sun. Was this heaven? Had an angel saved him?
His eyes cleared, and the beautiful face of his father, standing neck deep in the ocean surf, filled his vision. His radiant smile made Angus’s heart leap. They embraced then whooped for joy.
“Is it really you, father?” gasped Angus.
Sir Rudyard Gunn wrapped his arms around his only child. “Welcome back, son.”
Twenty-Four
The three exhausted escapees were overwhelmed by the crushing embraces of their rescuers. Cheers rang out as everyone shouted thanks to God for bringing Prince Henry and his friends back from the dead. The ravenous survivors were given food and water. As warm tea trickled into their empty stomachs, Prince Henry retold the enraptured crowd of their life underground and their daring escape from the chamber.
When the prince finished his spellbinding tale, Whipper and Connor moved forward and knelt before their leader. Prince Henry perceived the heaviness lining their faces. “What is it, my friends?” he asked. “Speak, for at this very moment, nothing could possibly dampen the joy that is coursing through my veins.”
“I’m afraid the news we have might do more than dampen your spirits, my lord,” said Connor.
Concerned, he placed a hand on Connor’s shoulder. “From the despair I see in your eyes, I have no doubt that your words will be grim. As your leader and friend, I ask you to share with me your heavy burden.”
“It is news of the worst kind,” agreed Whipper, unable to look the prince in the eye.
Prince Henry stood up, alarmed. “My sister, Sarah. Is she all right? Speak to me!”
“She’s alive, my lord,” said Connor, solemnly, “but she is in grave danger.”
Prince Henry grabbed Connor and lifted him to his feet. “Danger? Speak! I beg of you! Tell me what has happened in my absence!”
“We only found out about this most heinous of plans after Connor had escaped from the floodway,” explained Whipper.
Prince Henry looked to Connor to continue the explanation.
“When I finally made it to the end of the floodway, I was attacked and almost killed by Master Robertson.”
Prince Henry was stunned. “Attacked by one of my engineers? Almost killed? Why?”
The exhilaration of the rescue evaporated as Prince Henry listened to the story of Connor’s near murder and his timely rescue. The men then went on to relate the startling plot of treason and attempted murder, masterminded by Black Douglas, Prince Henry’s trusted second-in-command. But what sent the prince into a rage was hearing of the ruthless abduction of his sister, Sarah, and her planned forced marriage to the new leader of the Templar Order.
Fists clenched, the prince abruptly left the gathering on the beach and stormed up to the ship. Going below deck, he kicked in the cabin door that held the chained Master Robertson to the wall. Seeing the prince, Robertson screamed as if the Grim Reaper himself had burst through the door. He collapsed into a quivering mound at Prince Henry’s feet. The prince grabbed the man off the planks and threw him hard against the wall, pinning him against the wood with an iron grip.
“Tell me everything,” growled the prince. “I want to hear it all, every single detail, from your worthless, deceitful lips.”
It was dark by the time Prince Henry finally entered the crowded captain’s quarters. The senior knights, along with Connor, Angus and Na’gu’set, all bowed as the prince crossed the room and sat at the head of the table. Gravely, he took hold of a quill and pulled the candle close. The men waited silently for their leader to bring the meeting to order. Prince Henry skipped the usual formalities and simply nodded at his trusted colleagues. His eyes were distant and empty.
“We have very little time to do so much, my friends. Before we can deal with Black Douglas and his unimaginable betrayal, we must first finish our task here at Oak Island.”
“But the princess . . .” stammered Connor.
Prince Henry cut him off. “Do you not think my heart bleeds for her every second of every minute, knowing that she remains in that monster’s possession? Our undertaking here, however, is greater than the needs of any one individual, including that of my sister.”
“We will do as you command,” stated Sir Rudyard, flashing Connor a warning not to interrupt the prince again.
“Thank you, Rudyard. The sooner we get off this island, the sooner we can stop the corruption that has infected the Order—before it destroys everything we have worked so hard to build.”
Before the sun had risen, the men began their tasks with passionate ferocity. Assignments that would have taken over a week for dozens of men to complete, the two dozen knights somehow finished in less than three days. Everyone worked without sleep through the cool night air using raging bonfires that lit up the entire bay. At the end of the third day, Oak Island was finally transformed into the unassuming shape that Prince Henry had always envisioned. The protective breakwater for the ships and both coffer dams had been lowered to below sea level. All signs of Templar habitation were erased, with the exception of an unassuming cross built from the five boulders used to lower the rescue gate. Both the floodway and the entrance were now covered under what appeared to be a natural coastline of rocks and mud. Even though the men worked with superhuman determination, the inability to immediately settle the score with Black Douglas was taking a heavy toll on their leader.
“Look at him,” Connor said, nodding to the table where the prince and the other knights were quietly talking. “I have never seen Prince Henry like this before.”
Angus frowned. “Can you blame him? He’s been betrayed in the worst way by someone he trusted. I can’t think of a more horrific nightmare for any man.”
Connor nodded. “I know, but still, we’ve been through so much, and he always seemed to find ways to keep our spirits up . . . you know, give us hope. This time . . . I don’t know. Everything just feels different.”
Angus looked over to the prince with concern. “Aye, ’tis different this time. Before we came to Oak Island, we had only the English and unpreventable acts of God that were threatening to impede our mission. This time, someone he trusted, and a fellow knight, has tried to destroy his entire family. A man can sometimes find it in his heart to forgive a friend, but for a friend to intentionally bring such harm to your family, even murder? No, that’s unforgivable. I reckon Prince Henry might never be the same again.”
Connor felt his own anger rise again at Angus’s words. He just wished there was some way he could help the prince with his dark personal battle. “What can we do for him?”
“Sometimes,” Angus said, stirring the broth with his spoon, “sometimes you just have to let a man fight his own battle.”
The ship left Oak Island for the final time as the morning sky ignited into a glowing crimson sheet. It was an ominous omen, as every sailor knew that a red sky in the morning meant danger. Still, the men did not hesitate to give Prince Henry their full support to sail west to New Jerusalem. Instead of setting a direct heading to the distant colony, they sailed on a more southern tack, for there was one issue that Prince Henry said must be dealt with first. Na’gu’set stood with the prince at the rudder, every so often pointing towards the distant horizon.
“Land ho!” came the call from a sailor standing up on the yard arm.
Connor had to strain his eyes in order to spot a tiny smudge of land a good distance beyond the bow of the ship.
“Lower the sails!” commanded Prince Henry. “We don’t want to go anywhere near the reefs.”
As Connor helped to pull in the sheets from the main sail, he noticed two burly knights drag the sullen Master Robertson to the side of the ship. Prince Henry and Antonio joined the prisoner at the rail. The crew gathered around their captain in anticipation.
“Many of you men have made excellent suggestions as to the appropriate punishment for Master Robinson, who has been charged and found guilty of the heinous crimes o
f treason and attempted murder.”
“Please don’t kill me!” whimpered Robertson, falling on his knees and covering his reddened eyes with his hands.
“I, however,” continued the prince, “have decided on a punishment which I feel best suits the crimes. We have decided to use the small island off the starboard bow as a lifetime prison for Master Robinson. A quick death for him would be simply too convenient an escape for such treachery. I want him to think about his crimes, how he betrayed not only his Grand Master but also the ideals of the Templar Order. On this desolate island, he will contemplate with God the sins that have brought him to such a lonely and desolate demise, and here he shall also await his final judgment.”
The guards ignored Robertson’s pleas and picked up his quivering body. Without ceremony they threw him over the rail.
“Throw him that empty water barrel as well,” ordered Prince Henry. “I want to ensure that he makes it to the island.”
The crew ignored the panicked screams from beyond the rail. It did not take long for the disturbance to fade away in the distance as the ship was ordered to return to full sail. Prince Henry set the rudder so that the bow raced for the western horizon.
“Now my friends, we set sail for New Jerusalem. I think that it’s time I reacquaint myself with Black Douglas.”
Twenty-Five
The boys kept busy on the undermanned deck, but they noticed that in the two days since they had abandoned Robertson on a desolate spit of land, Prince Henry and Antonio rarely came on deck, leaving the navigating to Sir Rudyard. While Angus took little interest in the surrounding ocean, Connor was amazed at the variety of animals in these distant waters, including pods of huge whales clouding the horizon with their hissing jets of mist. He was fascinated that the creatures seemed as interested in their ship as he was in them, as both the adults and calves would occasionally turn their immense bodies sideways for a quick glance at the vessel as it plowed through the cresting waves.
Betrayed Page 18
